


That's what Friends are for

by amerasu1013 (amerasu_1013)



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-24
Updated: 2010-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerasu_1013/pseuds/amerasu1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise crew takes take of each other. They are friends, they went through thick and thin together, and they are violently protective of theirs. They are family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's what Friends are for

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for this prompt at the st_xi_kink_meme: _"Spock nerve-pinches someone for picking on Chekov, Cupcake punches people for rude comments about Spock's mother, anyone who uses the name 'Cupcake' as an insult gets painfully hyposprayed… basically, everyone on the Enterprise hearts everyone else and they're all violently protective BFFs."_ I more or less followed that prompt, but took some liberties.
> 
> Disclaimer: Star Trek and all its characters do not belong to me. Not mine, never have been, never will be... *sobs* I'm just borrowing them.
> 
> Betaed by the lovely infiniterider who's awesome, double-rainbow-style. Any remaining mistakes are mine, especially since English is not my native tongue.

**1\. Kirk**

Jim’s head hurts like two angry Klingons used it as a punching bag, his mouth feels like a tribble died in there, Spock’s disapproving eyebrow and Bones’ glower don’t make it any better. But the cool metal of the mess hall table feels soothing against his cheek, and if he closes his eyes he doesn’t have to see the looks his two best friends give him while they eat delicious food that Jim sure as hell won’t be able to stomach now. Jerks.

Yesterday was… He loves Scotty and all, and apparently it was some kind of Scottish holiday or something (Scotty actually explained it, but that was three bottles in and his accent was pretty hard to understand), and Jim can’t remember ever being this hung-over before. Not even after that thing with the guy in the place.

Jim vows never to try and out-drink a Scot again, seriously, because damn, his head hurts. He sighs and moves a bit, looking for a spot on the table that hasn’t been warmed by his cheek before. Ahh, blessed coolness…

Snickers disrupt his recovery. Jim frowns and opens one eye to squint at whoever disturbed him. A couple of guys from the science department on the table next to them are elbowing each other, laughing and pointing towards the door. Jim moves his aching head to see what’s so funny. Hairy legs. Jim squints. Hairy legs, knobbly knees, a cloth with tartan pattern, some weird furry pouch thing… Ah, it’s Scotty. Scotty in a kilt. Jim waves one hand weakly and mumbles “Hey Scotty” into the table, because actually getting up and talking to his chief engineer seems too daunting a task. God, Jim is tired.

But what he hears next wakes him up pretty darn fast. The guys on the next table are still laughing, laughing and pointing, pointing at Scotty who stands there arms akimbo and glowers at them. What the?

“Look, he’s wearing a skirt!”

“Hi Mrs. Scott, how ya doing?”

“I heard European girls didn’t shave their legs, but fuck, who wants to see _that_?”

Oh _hell_ no. Jim straightens, head almost clear now, wide awake, and glares at the table next to him. “Gentlemen.” He’s pretty proud of the way his voice rumbles menacingly, also the fuzzy throat helps make his growl sound all the more awesome.

The dickheads at the table next to them stop laughing and look at him. One gulps. “Captain!”

Jim is about to start some serious tongue-lashing, when he notices Spock has stood up and is now striding towards the bunch of idiots with a most fearsome Vulcan not-expression of not-rage on his face. And Bones walks right next to him, scowl firmly in place. Jim grins to himself and turns towards Scotty. Let them deal with the dickheads, he and Scotty have a date with the still. There has to be a way to make Scotty’s rot-gut less headache-inducing.

And if, later, Jim maybe fiddles with coding of the laundry system of certain crew quarters, no one will ever know. And if said laundry system maybe ruins every pair of uniform pants certain crew members own, and if the quartermaster is suddenly and most unfortunately out of replacements for said uniform pants, and if certain crew members are forced to walk around in Starfleet-issued regulation skirts for a whole week until the very busy engineering department gets around to fix certain machines, no one will ever suspect that James T. Kirk, decorated hero and distinguished captain of Starfleet’s flagship, has anything to do with that.

Scotty and Jim toast each other with the latest creation of their still. Jim settles comfortably and smoothes a hand over the tartan pattern of his own kilt while certain crew members awkwardly try to sit in their skirts without flashing their underwear at everyone. Clearly kilts are awesome, and at least they cover one’s knees.

 

 **2\. Jason**

Jason hasn’t been to this bar in years, but it’s just as he remembers it. Still mostly visited by Cadets, good drinks, loud music… and Jim Kirk is hitting on a pretty girl who’s clearly not interested. Just like the last time he was here. Jason likes this bar.

But if those guys next to him won’t stop talking shit about his Captain, he’s gonna _make_ them stop.

Jason scowls into his beer and tries not to listen. Unfortunately those assholes are loud. Jim Kirk only got into Starfleet because of his daddy, yadda yadda, he cheated on the Kobayashi Maru so he probably cheated on his other tests, too, blablabla, a guy who slept with that many women must have tons of diseases, what the fuck ever… Jason rolls his eyes. The shit people come up with when they’re jealous of someone, seriously.

“… and everyone knows how he got the Enterprise. Slut probably spread his legs for all the admiralty.”

What. The. Fuck? Jason straightens and turns. The assholes next to him are laughing like hyenas at the last remark, and, yeah, the Captain clearly heard it, judging by his stiff back and clenched fists. Damn it all to hell.

“Totally! I bet he let everyone fuck him just so he could get to play Captain. I mean, seriously…”

Jason’s fist against his face shuts the guy up pretty darn fast. Asshole stumbles against the bar and holds his nose. Jason shakes his hand briefly and glares at the others.

“Anyone else wanna talk shit about a decorated war hero and my Captain?”

Apparently not. The assholes beat a hasty retreat and Jason returns to the bar. Fuckers. _And_ they spilled his beer, the jerks. He sits down again and scowls. Then a hand falls on his shoulder, Jason looks up and sees a grinning Jim Kirk next to him. He grins back.

“Hey, thanks for that, Chief of Security. That was pretty impressive.”

Jason shrugs in fake modesty. “Just doing my job, Sir.”

Kirk laughs and claps him on the back. “And you’re doing a _great_ job! So great in fact, that I’ll buy you a drink, how about that?”

“Don’t mind if you do, Captain.”

“Great!” Kirk settles on the chair next to him and orders two beers. They toast each other, drink and settle into a comfortable silence. Jason likes this bar.

Suddenly Kirk nudges him. “By the way, I totally could’ve have taken them. Just so you know… Cupcake.”

“I’m sure you could have. Moonbeam.”

Kirk laughs again, sunny and happy, and Jason smiles back at him. Just doing his job.

 

 **3\. Gaila**

“What? You thought – you and me? Are you serious? Eww, not even if you were the last man on Earth!”

The human female starts giggling. Gaila cringes at her high-pitched voice and watches in disbelief as she doubles over, hands clutched in front of her less-than-ample bosom and laughs at Jason. He blushes fiercely, and stomps off, deeply embarrassed.

Gaila scowls and sets her drink down. Seriously, some humans she’ll never understand. How can they be so rude and uncaring? If an Orion was approached by someone he or she was not interested in, they would just tell them “no thank you”. But not laugh at them, make them feel like they are not even worth being _considered_ as a possible mate, demean them and make fun of them. And poor Jason had taken so long to work up the courage to talk to that ungrateful bitch!

Gaila stands up resolutely and intercepts Jason. His head is bowed, he’s scowling at everything in his way, daring anyone to laugh at him, and the stupid bitch and her friends are still giggling. Clearly this one needs a lesson taught by a real female!

“Jason!” She wraps her arms around her friend and presses close. “I’m so glad I found you!”

Jason looks a little confused but puts his big hands on her hips. Gaila cuddles against his chest and flutters her eyes at him. “I missed you,” she purrs, and makes sure the stupid human bitch can see how she rubs against the taller male.

“Last night was the most wonderful night I ever had!” she coos, loud enough that the gaggle of girls can hear. “I’ve never been satisfied so well by anyone before, so filled and taken, so aroused and worshipped…”

Jason’s face is still a bit confused, but he seems to get what she’s trying to do. He pulls her closers and his deep voice rumbles close to Gaila’s ear. “I’m glad you liked it sweetheart. Always happy to please a lady.”

Gaila shivers in delight, a very real shiver, not a faked one, because his deep voice and strong hands make her body tingle. She’s always had a weakness for large, strong men. Well, and lithe men, and small men… and women, and several hermaphrodite species, and… anyway. She clasps her hands around Jason’s neck and smiles up at him.

“Oh I loved it! I never had a lover like you before, never. It takes a lot to tire out an Orion, as I’m sure you know, but – “ she gives a coy little giggle, “well, let me just say, this morning I could barely walk!”

Gaila throws a covet look towards the human females – yep, their mouths are hanging open and they are staring wide-eyed. As is, in fact, everyone in the bar, because Gaila wasn’t exactly talking quietly, really. Perfect. And now for the coup de grace…

“So…” she bites her lips and tilts her head at Jason. “Any chance you would be willing to do that again? Because I don’t think any other man – human, Orion or _any_ species – could satisfy me after last night…”

Jason smiles and gives her a secret wink. “I sure would, honey. Lead the way!”

Gaila grins at him and pulls him towards the exit. Before she leaves she gives the stupid bitch and her stupid bitch friends a smug grin and is satisfied to see they are still gaping after them. Serves them right!

Later when Jason has brought her to her room, he hugs her close and kisses her forehead, then turns around to leave. She loves him a little at that moment. Although she was all over him earlier, he doesn’t get fresh with her. He doesn’t see “Orion” and think “slut”, he only brought her home without trying or expecting anything. A real gentleman.

Gaila tugs on Jason’s arm, invites him in, makes him tea and cookies. They talk about all kinds of stuff, and only when she pulls him on top of her does he start touching her like a lover, not a friend.” She likes it, tells him so, teaches him a few things and learns some herself. And indeed, on the next morning she can barely walk.

 

 **4\. Chekov**

Pavel tries to stop fidgeting. Some of Starfleet’s most brilliant scientists are attending this meeting, and he’s nervous and excited. So many famous people, and he’s only… only Pasha! But, he thinks as he straightens determinedly, he holds three doctorates and serves on Starfleet’s flagship. He can do this!

There is Dr. VanBiren! Pavel has read everything the woman has ever published, she’s brilliant. He has to talk to her! Pavel inches closer and listens to her talk with three members of the VSA. He hopes for a lull in the conversation where he can ask her about her latest theory. It’s very controversial, and he’d like to know more about how she came up with it.

“…Enterprise’s science team clearly consists of very intelligent people.”

“Indeed.” The oldest of the three Vulcans inclines his head. “It is most…”

Dr. VanBiren interrupts him. “Very bright, all of them! Oh look, here we have one, Ketchuv, isn’t it?” She wraps a hand with long, red fingernails around Pavel’s arm and yanks him closer. Pavel stiffens and blushes. Stavok raises an eyebrow at him.

“It’s Chekov,” Pavel mumbles and frees his arm von VanBiren’s grasp, “Pavel Andreievich.”

“Oh, of course! Pavel here is our little Russian wunderkind, dear Stavok. He’s only fifteen, you know? I feel so old next to him!” She flutters her eyelashes at the Vulcan and gives a coy little giggle.

“Sewenteen!” he corrects, and manages the Vulcan salute. The Vulcans nod politely and stare at him with interest.

“Seventeen then!” VanBiren simpers and pats his head. Pavel ducks away and hides a scowl. He _hates_ it when people pat his head.

“As I was saying, the Enterprise has only the best and brightest as their crew! You know the half-Vulcan, of course, dear Stavok, and little Pavel here, and Delaney from Oxford, and Wikanis from Rialto VII… I wonder where they all are tonight, I would _love_ to introduce you… Pavel, surely you did not come alone!”

“My colleagues are ower zere, wiz Commander Spock.” Pavel points in their direction.

“Oh, look, dear Stavok!” VanBiren moves closer to the Vulcan and touches his arm, she doesn’t seem to notice him stiffen and pull back. “There is Mulligan, and Dr. Ta’Vessss, and, huh, that Orion, whatever her name is, and Deemos the Seventh…”

“Her name iz Gaila!” Pavel interrupts and swallows at his own rudeness, but this woman is starting to get on his nerves. In Russia, people would not be this way! So rude and condescending, no! Manners were invented in Russia, by Stanislaus Knigge, and Pavel is sure Dr. VanBiren hasn’t read his book.

“Gaila then, little Pavel, I’m sorry! I’m sure she’s a very nice girl, I just don’t know what an _Orion_ would do on Starfleet’s _flagship_ …”

“Vat iz zat supposed to mean?” Pavel draws up to his full height and glares at this impossible woman. The Vulcans raise their eyebrows synchronously and Dr. VanBiren looks at him with a patronizing smile.

“Well, little Pavel, I meant that this Orion’s, uh, _unique_ talents would better be used in a different location. But then I guess you are a bit too young to know about that, aren’t you?”

She tries again to pat his head, Pavel steps back and crosses his arms. “Ensign Gaila iz not only a wery brave and dedicated member of our crew, she iz also a brilliant mathematician. She holds two doctorates, co-deweloped ze Hurian Zeorem, and wizout her work on ze Jelling’s ekvation your latest zeory vould not exist!”

VanBiren straightens and glares at him, her mouth opens and closes like a fish’s. Pavel glares back. This woman is not brilliant, this woman is annoying and ignorant.

“Fascinating.” Stovak moves a step closer to Pavel. “I have read the mentioned work on the Jellings equation, and found it both astounding as well as remarkable. Ensign Chekov, Pavel Andreievich, I would be gratified if you were to introduce me to the female in question. I wish to discuss a possible collaboration with the Science Academy on semi-symmetrical Markov chains with her.”

Pavel gives a wide grin. “Of course! It vould be my pleasure. Just follow me, I am sure Gaila vill be very interested in vat you hawe to say!”

The Vulcan nods in thanks and follows him, his two colleagues fall in step behind him and murmur, dare Pavel say excitedly? He leads them over towards Gaila and throws a look back at VanBiren. The woman stands there and gapes after them, and Pavel can’t suppress a smug grin at her dumb-founded face. Brilliant, his ass.

 

 **5\. Spock**

Ensign Chekov does not seem to be very comfortable in the presence of the Admiral’s wife. Spock watches him scowl and duck out of the way of another attempt to ruffle his hair. While Spock is aware that the Ensign’s curls and cherubic face evoke a desire to mother and… cuddle the young human – Spock will not admit he has felt the desire himself, he is Vulcan and Vulcans do not ruffle another’s hair, soft and curly looking as it may be. It is very obvious that Chekov does not like it. That the overweight female does either not notice his discomfort at her attention or ignores it is… frustrating.

Spock walks closer and observes the Ensign. He is now within hearing distance and what Admiral Hawkins’ wife is saying makes him raise an eyebrow.

“… much too dangerous for a sweet boy like you! All the Klingons and the shooting, and explosions, oh my! You should stay here on Earth, in fact, my dear husband would love to have a personal secretary! I can ask him right now to appoint you! This would be a much better job for you, sweet little Pasha, much safer! And so well-paid!”

Ensign Chekov opens his mouth with a slightly horrified expression: “Oh, no, zank you, I love my job on ze Enterprize! I vould newer leawe ze ship and…”

“Oh Pasha, a ship is such a boring place! Now politics, that’s a rewarding career! Who wants to be on a space ship in the middle of nowhere when they can be the next President’s personal aide!”

“But I like ze ship, it’s exciting, and zey need me –“

Spock raises his other eyebrow. This woman is illogical – it is obvious that Ensign Chekov does not want to become her husband’s aide. Spock admits to a tiny feeling of satisfaction at that. It would be unpleasant should the young human leave the crew, because his youthful enthusiasm and charming demeanor has proven quite satisfactory. To the crew, of course. Spock is Vulcan – he would not miss the Ensign, he would only miss his contributions to the Enterprise’s mission. And becoming a politician? Spock suppresses a shudder. He has enough of them in his family.

“Nonsense! What could a young thing like you contribute on a ship full of grown-ups! No, you _have_ to come work for my husband, dear Pasha!”

“I do not want to, zank you! I am wery happy wiz my current job.”

“I will speak with my husband right away and get you reassigned. Now where did he go…?”

Spock decides it is time to interfere. It is apparent that this woman is not operating on full capacity. The Ensign clearly stated his aversion to her proposals, and yet she persists in her attempts to lure the young man away from the Enterprise. Very illogical.

“Mrs. Hawkins, Ensign.”

“Commander! I am wery glad to see you. Did you need my help wiz somezing important? Somezing zat cannot wait? I hawe time to help you, a lot of time!”

“Ohh, the half-Vulcan!” Mrs. Hawkins clutches Chekov to her ample bosom and regards Spock with excitement. “Pasha and I were having such a lovely conversation, you are welcome to join us! Is it true that Vulcan ears can rotate towards noise, like a cat’s? Did you know that Pasha here wants to go into politics like my husband?”

Spock raises an eyebrow at her delusions and takes a hasty step back when her free hand strains towards his ears. This woman is… annoying. Ensign Chekov tries to free himself from her tight embrace and regards him with pleading eyes. Spock gazes back and hesitates. When he interrupted them he had only thought to point out that the Ensign had no interest in becoming Admiral Hawkins’ secretary and his wife should desist in her attempts to convince him otherwise. But now he wishes to remove the Ensign from Mrs. Hawkins’ presence as soon as possible.

“Forgive me, Mrs. Hawkins, but I require Ensign Chekov’s help with important business. His assistance is of the utmost importance and he will need to accompany me back to the ship at once.”

The Admiral’s wife looks disappointed. “Oh, if you’re sure it’s that important… But, dear Pasha, please come back as soon as you’re finished, I want to introduce you to my daughter, you two would make _such_ a lovely pair…”

Ensign Chekov hurries away and places himself behind Spock. Spock straightens and subtly shifts so as to put his body between him and this obnoxious female.

“Negative. The Ensign’s presence is required elsewhere. If you would excuse us now, we will take our leave.”

Mrs. Hawkins’ face bears an expression that Spock is sure would be called a pout as he leads Chekov away. Before they reach the door they are intercepted by Admiral Pike who regards them in silent amusement and promises Spock to make sure the Admiral’s wife understands she’ll not get Chekov as her husband’s secretary. Spock nods imperiously and accompanies Chekov back to the ship.

The young Ensign chatters happily, thanks him and professes admiration for the way in which Spock “played” the woman. Spock stays silent and leads the Ensign towards one of the recreation rooms. Vulcans do not gloat, they do not feel satisfaction at having successfully rescued crew members from annoying females. Spock did only what was logical.

They settle at one of the tables and Spock procures his chess set. They play for 4.6 hours, until the rest of the crew members start to return from the function, and Spock is content. The Ensign’s presence is most agreeable.

Although his curls remain a distraction.

 **6\. Bones**

The hobgoblin is lying on a bed in sickbay and it fills Leonard with not a small amount of pleasure that the “ritual cup” he drank on that stupid planet paralyzed his vocal cords. It means Leonard can yell at Spock all he wants while he treats him and the hobgoblin can’t argue back. Stupid half-Vulcan with his stupid self-sacrificing tendencies, he’s almost as bad as Jim. The two of them are the reason his hair is turning grey already!

Ambassador T’Porak watches him with her eyebrows raised, clearly taken aback by Leonard’s… _human_ behaviour, but he ignores her pretty face and cusses Spock out. He’s trying to make a point, dammit. He’ll not get side-tracked by T’Porak’s slender neck, her translucent skin and dark eyes, her cute pointy ears and her… where was he? Ah yes.

“Goddamned greed-blooded hobgoblin, you can’t just go around drinking alien concoctions without knowing what they might do to you! Look what happened! You can’t talk?! Why in hell would you think that was a good idea you, half-Vulcan idiot! Wait, don’t tell me, it was for a _ritual_ , and it would be _illogical_ to refuse an unknown substance simply because it might be dangerous!”

Spock’s mobile eyebrows creep higher, he opens his mouth but only a croaking sound emerges. Leonard curses and picks up a different instrument. The hobgoblin and the kid, always running headlong into danger, and leaving him to deal with the consequences!

T’Porak starts to say something, but Leonard talks over her. He’ll fix her wounds later, when Spock’s gone, when he has vented his frustration and can concentrate on flirting. For a Vulcan, she sure seems to like his Southern drawl. Anyway.

“You and Jim, both of you, you’ll be my death someday, always jumping without thinking!”

Spock’s eyebrows convey his full exasperation. Damn, the man is eloquent even without a voice. “And stop moving, dammit! How am I supposed to fix your weird biology with you moving all over the place?! Illogical half-Vulcan!”

Leonard grumbles and runs another scan. If he could just figure out what exactly was wrong with Spock’s vocal chords… dammit, he’s a doctor, not a miracle worker!

“You thought because you’re Vulcan you’d be immune to these toxins? Well, think again, Spock! You’re half-human and clearly you were not immune! Now you’re lying there without a voice and expect me to fix it!

“Indeed.” T’Porak’s melodious voice seems loud in the otherwise silent sickbay. Leonard steals a glance at her. She’s gorgeous, with her long dark hair and her lush lips, her slender waist. Leonard hides a secret smile and vows to ask her over for dinner later. Yesterday she seemed quite open to his advances, maybe this evening she’ll let him touch her. Furthering understanding between humans and Vulcans is important, right? Especially if this Vulcan is an ambassador, and a very nice one at that.

What T’Porak says next isn’t that nice, though.

“I agree with Dr. McCoy. Clearly as a half-human you are more susceptible for alien toxins than a full Vulcan would be. Ignoring your biological shortcomings and ingesting this poisonous drink without regards for your own safety and that of the ship was illogical. Your failure was a threat to this important mission and could have easily meant an end to the negotiations. Not to mention the inconvenience you are to the Doctor.”

Leonard freezes. Spock’s eyebrows have drawn together and a slight green blush colors his cheeks. T’Porak looks at him with a haughty expression on her face. Goddamn Vulcans.

“Excuse me?” Leonard turns towards her and ups the intensity of his glare. “Did you happen to forget he saved your life, Missy? That without him you’d be dead, lying in a pit somewhere while the local predators gnaw on your bones? And you go around insulting the Commander’s ‘shortcomings’, when you, a _full-blooded_ Vulcan, couldn’t even fend off a couple of kitty-cats! _You’re_ the one who’s illogical, not thanking your rescuer, ignoring his contribution to the Enterprise’s mission, his dedication and his sacrifices for your people and Earth, _that’s_ illogical!”

T’Porak tries to speak but Leonard holds up a hand and shakes his head. “I don’t even want to hear it! Chapel! Get over here and treat the Ambassador, would ya? I can’t deal with this right now, she can take her ‘inconvenience’ and shove it!”

He turns back to Spock and continues to grumble as he treats the man. Stupid robot Vulcans and their goddamned superiority complex. Spock watches him with curious eyebrows and doesn’t flinch when Leonard shoves a hypo in his neck. Leonard ignores T’Porak and focuses on Spock. He looks at his scanner, nods once and steps back, satisfied.

“So, that should to the trick. It’ll probably take an hour or so until it’s working, but then you’ll have your voice back and can tell me off for being so human and yelling at ambassadors. What’d you say, chess in the meantime? You don’t have to talk for chess.”

Spock nods and his dark eyes smile at Leonard. Leonard nods back, pleased, pats Spock’s shoulder twice and leads the hobgoblin from sickbay. On his way out he glares at T’Porak where she’s sitting under Chapel’s not so tender ministrations. Her pretty face is still flushed and she averts her eyes. Good. Leonard never liked her anyway. 

 

 **7\. Uhura**

Nyota knows that this dinner is important, that furthering diplomatic relationships with the Klingon Empire is imperative given Starfleet’s recent losses and the trouble between the Vulcans and the Romulans. And she’s impressed by the conduct of the attending diplomats, all very formal and regal, well-mannered, polite and generally on their best behavior.

But if that stupid Kang doesn’t stop insulting Leonard, she’s gonna kick his teeth in.

The Klingon, very drunk on assorted Earth wines, is laughing and sneering at the Doctor, makes fun of his soft belly, his weak arms, his rosy skin. He insults Leonard’s heritage, his apparent lack of strength and fighting skills. Uhura doesn’t know how Kang found out about this, but he taunts Leonard about his ex-wife, speculates about whether their divorce was caused by the fact that the Doctor had a job “without honor” or the fact that he doesn’t seem man enough to satisfy a woman.

Leonard doesn’t understand one word of what insults the Klingon is flinging at him in his own tongue, thank God for that, but Nyota does, and she knows that most of the other humans do. And why in hell does nobody seem to think they should _say_ something?!

She grips her fork tighter and glares at Kang, causing Kirk to throw her a confused look. Now now Kang is speculation about the size of Leonard’s genitals! _That’s it_! She’s had enough.

She doesn’t stand up, doesn’t raise her voice, but after a few words everybody is listening to her. Nyota glares at Kang, watches him flush, fidget and sink deeper and deeper into his seat. She hisses the last words of her furious Klingon speech and sits back again, calmly spearing a piece of meat and chewing it slowly.

The other guests at the table stare at her, the Starfleet officers who understood what she said faintly horrified, but when the Klingon ambassador, Kor, throws his head back and laughs loudly, they relax and the dinner continues.

Nyota watches Kang stumble away in embarrassment and smiles to herself. Shows the Klingons you don’t need weapons to destroy your opponent, a talented tongue is enough. And she managed to impress the Klingons, too – Ambassador Kor is watching her with an intrigued expression on his face. She gives him her most feral smile, he grins back and toast her with his glass.

Maybe she was a little _too_ impressive, she thinks later, after she denies Kor’s marriage proposal and two more by other Klingons. But definitely worth it.

 

 **8\. Sulu**

Seeing Heini again is great. Hikaru and John Heininger were pretty tight during academy, had fencing lessons together and even shared a common interest in plants. Right now they are hugging and patting each other on the back, exhilarated to finally meet again. Heini was on the Farragut, and for a long time Hikaru hadn’t known whether or not his friend had survived the encounter with the Narada – hadn’t known if his friend was still alive, had worried and feared the worst. So, seeing Heini again is _great_.

They sit down on a park bench and smile at each other, and Hikaru can’t quite take his eyes of his friend. Reliefmakes him giddy, seeing his friend whole and healthy is wonderful.

They share stories about the Narada “Incident”, as Starfleet calls it, compare experiences and thoughts. They think about all the friends they have lost and are silent, they think of the ones that are still there and take comfort in them.

Then they start talking about their assignments, Heini’s on the Nautilus now and Hikaru wants to know _everything_. Heini smiles and tells him. Hikaru returns the favor by recounting the Enterprise’s last crazy-ass mission (he even re-enacts the Doc’s furious yelling when Kirk had returned without clothes and only a flimsy loincloth covering his essentials) and Heini throws his head back and laughs, making Hikaru grin as well. Of course, they tell each other about their crewmembers, too, and Hikaru is just as fascinated by Heini’s Betazoid First Officer as his friend is by Hikaru’s crazy bunch.

Naturally, soon the conversation turns towards female crew members, and Hikaru and Heini share a somewhat dreamy sigh and a smile at the memory of Gaila. They both hooked up with her during Acadmey, and they are glad for her and Jason, but quite a bit jealous, too. It’s _Gaila_ , okay? Then Heini shakes himself from his reverie and asks about Uhura.

“So tell me, my man… how’s it going with the hottest xenolinguist right there on the bridge with you? I mean, I’ve seen pictures, and hotdamn…” Heini whistles appreciatively and Hikura grins and rolls his eyes.

“… you ever hit that? I heard she’s kinda easy, got her job on your pretty ship by banging an admiral or something…”

Hikaru straightens and scowls. “Where did you hear that?”

“Just a couple of guys said it, you know…”

“Well, it’s complete crap. Ny- Lieutenant Uhura got her job because of her excellent grades, her unmatched abilities in xenolinguistics and a couple of other subjects, she earned her post, just like we all did – else she wouldn’t have been re-assigned to the Enterprise after that stupid ‘incident’, and let me tell you –”

“Woah, chill, dude, I get it! Sorry, I mean, I didn’t really think she slept her way in or something, it was just a some guys talking, okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna offend you.”

Hikaru is still annoyed. “Well, tell these guys they are idiots. It’s all a bunch of lies, without Nyota we wouldn’t be here – if not for her, we’d never even known about the Klingon prison escape in the first place. Hell, Earth probably wouldn’t exist, either! Those jerks are just jealous.”

Heini pats his shoulder and smiles. “I know, buddy. I’ll tell them, don’t worry.”

Hikaru eyes his friend’s sincere face and nods once. “Good. Thanks. And, um, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”

“No problem, my man, I get it. So, tell me, that Nurse Chapel is a hottie, think you could introduce us maybe?”

Hikaru laughs and shakes his head. He’s really glad he could meet his friend again.

 

 **9\. Pike**

 _Chatroom: to boldly fly – helmsmen rule the ship_

 _Guests: dawarp, mrincredible, srzbsns, zeloty_

 _Moderator: boldlygone_

\-------

 **dawarp** : u seen the vid of Nicolette in the flight simulator?

 **mrincredible** : yeah she puked didn’t she

 **srzbsns** : aww

 **dawarp** : its just proof girls cant drive

 **srzbsns** : yeah

 **mrincredible** : hahaha totally

 **zeloty** : wow you guys should hear yourselves…

 **dawarp** : shutup zel u just jelous coz u flunked ur last sim

 **zeloty** : obviously *eyeroll*

 **mrincredible** : zel you fail haha

 **dawarp** : hey guys heini met sulu yesterday

 **zeloty** : oh really? how’s he been?

 **dawarp** : **** off bout dat guy hes a idiot

 **srzbsns** : y do you say that?

 **dawarp** : everbodys always on how great that **** is and how hes the best helmsman ever that ****

 **zeloty** : wow warp, and you say I’m jealous, seriously

 **dawarp** : and hes just a **** whos daddy paid for his degree

 **mrincredible** : i heard that too

 **zeloty** : what about his actions during the N. Incident? you do know that without Sulu we’d all be dead now, don’t you?

 **srzbsns** : he just got lucky that’s all

 **dawarp** : yeh totally he just got lucky its not like hes that good a **** pilot anyways

 **dawarp** : i coulda done the same

 **zeloty** : seriously? wow, you really are an idiot

 **dawarp** : shut ur mouth any1 coulda done that whats so hard about flying around a couple wrecks and stuff sulus just a arrogant **** with **** **** just so u know

 **srzbsns** : what warp said

 **mrcincrebile** : yeah totally

 **boldlygone** : Attention all chat room members! This is a post to inform you that Lt. Hikaru Sulu’s exceptional flying during the Narada Incident has now become a mandatory part of Starfleet Academy’s curriculum. All cadets that hope to maybe one day be the kind of helmsman Lt. Sulu already is are obligated to undergo two brand-new simulations covering warping directly into a battlefield and flying through extreme atmospheric conditions. I like to call these simulations the “Hikaru Sulu nailed these, how about you?” scenarios and they start tomorrow. Just FYI. Sincerely, Admiral Christopher Pike.

 **boldlygone** : Oh, and additionally: dear users with the unbelievable witty names dawarp, srzbsns and mrcincredible, I assume you haven’t been aware of the fact that this chat is being monitored? And that I, as the moderator, am able to identify you with very little difficulty? So, dear Cadets John Uhland, Take’sh J’iala III. and Derek Useldinger, I expect you at Sim Room 3 at 0600 sharp tomorrow morning – you three have earned the honor of being the first participants in our new “Hikaru Sulu nailed these but I really don’t think you will” simulations. You can be proud of yourselves. Pike out.

 **zeloty** : oh snap! hahahaha Adm. Pike you rock!

 **boldlygone** : Why thank you. Cadet Zeloty, you may watch tomorrow’s spectacle from the instructor’s box, if you want.

 **zeloty** : thanks Admiral! I will!

 **boldlygone** : Excellent. Bring cake, will you? Good girl.

 

 **10\. Everyone**

Chris has suspected it for quite some time now, but hearing it is still a shock. He’s seen his physician’s face fall more and more with every monthly exam, he’s seen Dr. Biro force a smile and fake cheerfulness when he examined Chris’ legs. He noticed the Doc has started to talk less about promises and more about hope, and he’s heard the nurses whisper. He’s suspected it for a long time, but it still comes as a shock.

Chris will never walk again.

The day that Dr. Biro finally mans up and tells him, the day Chris’ world is shattered, his future’s ruined, he drinks a whole bottle of scotch. He looks at old pictures, of himself surrounded by long-dead friends, of the day he won the Starfleet Marathon, of when he climbed the Matterhorn, and cries.

He wakes up with an enormous headache and looks up into the unimpressed face of his former First Officer.

“Admiral.”

“God, Spock, what do you want?”

“I found myself in the vicinity of your home and decided to see if you were in need of company. Clearly I have been correct in this assumption.”

Yeah right. That half-Vulcan bastard probably hacked his files or something. And broke into his house when Chris wasn’t answering the door. Cheeky little…

“Go away, Spock, I’m not in the mood.”

“As you yourself have said on numerous occasions, ‘fat chance’, Admiral. I shall instead remain here and take care of you, since you are clearly either incapable or unwilling to do so.”

Spock eyes the various dirty dishes, haphazardly piled clothes and empty bottles – Chris refuses to feel guilty, he’s a cripple, he’s entitled to sulkiness! – with a hint of distaste and moves to open a window.

“Jesus!” Chris flinches and blinks furiously in the bright sunlight. “Warn a guy, will ya? This is not really helping my headache!”

“I assume you are aware that this is your own fault.” Spock picks up the bottle of scotch, holds it at arm’s length and gives Chris the eyebrow.

“Yeah yeah yeah. When did you become such a smartass, anyway?”

“If I were to hazard a guess, somewhere between being your First Officer and serving under James Kirk.”

Chris snorts a laugh. Touché. He watches Spock move around the room, stack plates and fold clothes. He’s just opening his mouth to say something, maybe a little thank you, when loud banging interrupts him. Spock doesn’t react as if something out of the ordinary has happened and Chris becomes suspicious. He wheels out of the room, through the hallway, and opens the front door. He stops and stares, mouth gaping. What the hell?

James T. Kirk is standing in the middle of his front yard, surrounded by dozens of crew members. He’s grinning excitedly and… giving directions?

“Okay, people! Scotty, Keenser and the rest of Engineering join Spock in making this place wheelchair-friendly! Cupcake and Jennings, you guys bring the Admiral’s new ride. Sulu and Chekov, you’re going grocery shopping, Chris needs some real food in here! Uhura has the shopping list, buy exactly what she wants ‘cause she’s in charge of cooking and she’ll kick your ass if you fuck up! The rest of you, you’re on cleaning duty and this house better be gleaming when you’re finished! Bones, you know what to do!”

Chris is still staring, until with a murmured “by your leave, Admiral”, the Enterprise’s Chief of Engineering moves his wheelchair out of the way to make room for a seemingly endless stream of crew members carrying tools, equipment, boxes and other stuff into his house.

Chris watches confusedly, he feels as if his home was invaded by friendly Huns, smiling and laughing, chattering excitedly about building ramps and installing handles in his shower. And their leader is one grinning Captain Kirk, who’s right now running towards him while pushing a wheelchair, decorated with flames at the sides and chrome hubcaps.

“Here, Chris, look! Your new ride! Doesn’t it look awesome?”

Chris opens his mouth – new ride, what the fuck? –, but Kirk is already past him, cheerfully yelling at Spock to get his ass in gear and join the fun. Chris stares after him, flabbergasted. What the hell is going on?!

He starts wheeling himself back into the house, winding around various boxes in his hallway, and tries asking crew members what they think they are doing. They either ignore him or grin at him, nobody seems to give a shit that he’s an Admiral, for fuck’s sake. Chris huffs and gives up. Back then they couldn’t stop the Huns either, why should he try now? He decides to retreat to his bedroom, the only place that seems safe from his cheerful invaders.

Chris wheels himself towards it and opens the door. He finds himself facing an enraged Dr. McCoy. Uh oh.

The Enterprise’s CMO shoves a hypo into his neck before Chris can do so much as blink and starts yelling about idiot Admirals who can’t take care of themselves and are just as bad as certain teenage Captains. Chris would totally write him up for insubordination, if his headache hadn’t suddenly disappeared. Thank God, his hangover was killing him. Much happier now, Chris agrees to let the Doc examine him – not that he’d stand a chance at resisting, McCoy’s a legend, even Komack is scared of the guy.

Chris settles on his bed and doesn’t complain while the Doc pokes and prods him, listens to his grumbling about idiot physicians who won their degree in the lottery, never walk again his ass, and how he’ll make Dr. Biro eat his words, just wait and see. Loud bangs sound from various parts of Chris’ house, intercepted by playful insults and Jim Kirk’s sunny laugh, and Chris listens and smiles.

Suddenly his future seems quite bright.

 

 _THE END_

**Author's Note:**

> Cupcake does not have a real name, at least none is mentioned in the credits or on the various sites I looked. I decided to call him Jason, after the actor, Jason Matthew Smith.


End file.
